Harry Potter, the Slayer and the Wiccan Witch
by Sabia
Summary: BTVSHP Crossover. When Voldemort rises again, Hogwarts needs a secret weapon. Would the Dark Lord be expecting a Slayer and a Wicca? Dumbledore doesn't think so- especially since the Scoobs unite the both the houses and the pupils.
1. Summons

Disclaimer: Harry and Co. belong to JK Rowling and a bunch of other people I don't know the names of, Buffy and her Scoobies belong to Joss Whedon and Mutant Enemy. No profit has been made from this story, and none of my other ones either for that matter.  
  
Setting: The beginning of S7 in BTVS, and Harry and Co.'s sixth year at Hogwarts. Note that although Willow has returned from England, Spike has not been seen yet.  
  
Rating: Not sure yet, but if you watch BTVS you can read this  
  
Summary: When Voldemort rises again, Harry fights back with all his wizardly power, but he's still just an underage, under trained wizard. Dumbledore calls in reinforcements- of the Wicca variety (i.e. Willow for the slower people out there) Willow/Harry, Hermione/Ron, and I haven't decided on Buffy yet. We'll see what sort of mood I'm in. Willow is bisexual, not gay, in this fic.  
  
Author's notes: All right, I know it's kind of short and boring but there's fun to come. Promise. Review, and please, CRITICIZE! But gently, and console me with a cookie afterwards *bright smile* Some of the spelling will be strange to some of you because it's British, like me.  
  
Many thanks to idolsgirl, my fabulous beta. Check out her stories, they're great.  
  
  
***   
  
Dumbledore clapped his hands gently together, bringing the hall to attention. He gazed solemnly out over the students, and leaned on the table before him with wrinkled arms. His voice rang out across the room as he announced, "Welcome back to Hogwarts, students, new and old. I must inform you- all of you- that the Forbidden Forest is out of bounds. We also have an old teacher whom we are welcoming back," he nodded courteously to said teacher, "Professor Lupin, who is a werewolf, but whom you are in safe hands with, will be taking Defense Against the Dark Arts. Professor Hagrid has decided to resign from his post as Care of Magical Creatures teacher in favor of fighting the war against Voldemort." He paused as many of the students flinched. Parvati Patil melodramatically fanned herself with her hat as she went pale. He noted sadly the small amount of Slytherin students; most had gone into hiding when their parents were exposed as Death Eaters. Drawn out of his reverie by the expectant silence, he continued.  
  
"Before we enjoy our delectable feast, I realize that many of you are concerned about the return of Voldemort. Your fears are not without grounds. However, since our last encounter with him, we have considered our options and have decided to fight fire," he smiled, "with water. We have asked some warriors from a different sort of magical world from ours to join us in this battle. They should arrive sometime within the next four weeks. Now, enjoy!"  
  
With that cryptic message, he clapped his hands again to conjure the food from the kitchens, and privately smiled again at the look on the first years' faces as he sat down, pouring himself a gobletful of elderberry flower cordial. His staff, of course, were mostly members of the Order, and already knew the plan. He felt slightly regretful that he could not tell Harry and his companions, but it would be best if they found out along with everybody else.  
  
  
***  
  
"So," asked Harry as he ravenously bit into a chicken leg, "who d'you reckon these 'warriors from a different magical world' are?"  
  
Ron shrugged as he shoved a forkful of chips in his mouth, earning himself an indignant squeak from Hermione, who was sitting next to him and had been elbowed in the movement. "D'no," he managed around the food. "Never heard of another magic world."  
  
They turned to Hermione expectantly as she piled green beans on her plate. She looked up slightly sheepishly. "Don't look at me. I know a lot, but it's all about this world, or the Muggle one."  
  
Ginny Weasley, on the other side of Harry, peered around her curtain of red hair. "I expect we'll find out soon enough."  
  
  
***  
  
In England, Rupert Giles, ex-Watcher, shuffled through his mail, mumbling as he wandered through to the kitchen in plaid, comfortably threadbare slippers. "Bill, bill, advertisement, letter from Willow, letter from Roy, bill, paper-"  
  
He stopped suddenly when he found a creamy, thick envelope made out of stiff parchment. It was sealed with a curly 'H', which looked strange so close to a Muggle stamp, and could only be from one place. He sank down onto his well-cushioned couch. He curiously, quickly, slit it open with his letter open (not real silver) and devoured the ornate green writing.  
  
Dear Rupert,  
  
I hope this letter finds you well. I know that you have been out of contact with the wizarding world for some time, but I regret to say the time has come when we have need of you and your charges. Voldemort has risen again, and though we have fought him, with some success, we need an advantage if we are to win this battle. Nothing from the wizarding world can help us that we do not already have, and so I must ask for your help. I have though this over deeply, and have come to the conclusion that Voldemort would never look to your world- the world of Slayers and Wicca.  
  
I beg of you to inform your charges of the wizarding world and its current predicament. Please, ask them for help. I especially believe that Miss Buffy Summers, whom I understand is the current Slayer, and Miss Willow Rosenberg could help. Last spring we felt the ripples of power emanating from Sunnydale, and realized she was the cause. I think that she has great power which could be used to great advantage if she was taught to control it like she has practicing for this past summer. Voldemort would be taken by complete surprise, I think you'll agree.  
  
However, you must do as you see fit, and are under no obligation to help if you do not wish to do so. I will, of course, pay for airplane flights and any other expenses.  
  
Sincerely, Your friend and old teacher,  
  
Albus Dumbledore Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry  
  
Giles blinked, and immediately took off his glasses, polishing them furiously on his bath robe- scratch that, dressing gown. He'd been hanging around Americans too long. But he must immediately return there. There was no doubt about it. He had to summon the Scoobies. A world needed saving. It just wasn't the usual one.   
  
***  
  
In Sunnydale, California, Buffy sighed as she made her way to the door. Who could be calling at this hour? She'd just returned from patrol, and it was past 2 am. She was in no mood to fight nasties, which it would undoubtedly be, this late at night- or early in the morning, she supposed. She flung open the door- behind which, to her great surprise, stood Giles. She hugged him delightedly, and then, standing back, felt her forehead furrow. Giles wouldn't come to Sunnydale without calling unless it was dire. She sighed again and led him to the kitchen, making a pot of tea before either of them even spoke. Settled at the table, she asked wearily, "Apocalypse?"  
  
Smiling slightly, Giles replied, "It's good to see you too. Yes and no. There is a kind of apocalypse. But, if it suits you, I will tell the tale in the morning in front of everyone. I assume they are well?"  
  
Buffy nodded, and informed him, "Everybody is fine. And I am completely willing to go with the sleep plan. I'm sorry, but you're gunna have to spend the night on the couch. I'll get the-" she yawned, "- linens."  
  
  
***  
  
The next morning, with everyone gathering in the kitchen, Giles filled them in over pancakes. He grinned wryly at the fact that none of them appeared disbelieving. His thoughts were interrupted by Xander, pondering aloud the question he'd hope nobody asked. "So, how d'you know so much about Oz and his lil' old yellow brick road?"  
  
He took off his glasses, cleaning them on the hem of his shirt. "Uh-oh, that's never a good sign," observed Buffy.  
  
"Yes, well, in my darker, younger and somewhat stupider days, I attended Hogwarts, the British school for witches and wizards. We- Ethan and I- dallied in some rather black magics and were subsequently expelled in our final year. Of course that didn't stop up from going on to Eyghon and such, and finding more 'friends' along the way. However, whereas Ethan's wand is snapped, Albus kept mine, and gave it back to me when I became a Watcher. I have it with me. It was buried in my attic. After the things I did at school, I vowed never to use it again, but I suppose I need it now." He withdrew a sturdy wooden wand from inside his coat, and examined it fondly. "Twelve inches, oak, dragon's heartstring core."  
  
"Cool! Will we get one?" Dawn asked eagerly.  
  
"You may well be tested, but I highly doubt that all of you have magic in your veins. Don't get your hopes up. Still, we shall probably try. Now, I think we should be preparing to leave. We're wanted as soon as possible."  
  
Soon, the house was a-bustle with activity. All the occupants of 1630 Revello Drive were busily packing suitcases, taking leave from work and school, calling friends to tell them of their future whereabouts. Giles contently sipped his mug of Earl Grey. He could depend on these wonderful, fabulous people who he'd come to consider his family. Always. 


	2. Ready, Steady, Wizard!

For Disclaimer, Rating, etc. see Chapter 1

Author's Notes: OK, I know the Know-It-All Ritual is a bit lame, but called it creative license. Also, for some reason the italics, bold, alignment and everything except the words won't work when I upload stuff from my computer, so I'm sorry for the messy layout. Instead of using italics, I'm now going to put the phrase or word I would have put in italics in asterixes (asteri? Anybody know?) like this *Hi* Although I will try saving it like idolsgirl suggests to solve the problem, it may not work.

******

The following week, Dumbledore's office had stretched somehow to accomodate the people crowding it. They stared about curiously, but without any real amazment. It was hardly the strangest thing they'd ever seen. All the Scoobies were there, except Anya, who was still granting vengeance wishes back in Sunnydale, out of contact with the group. They were all perched on the squashy chairs Buffy didn't know the name of which this bearded wizard guy had drawn up from thin air with his 'wand'. Even with all the things she'd seen as the Slayer, it was still pretty nifty, as Willow would say. Noticing the redhead next to her was tense with nerves, Buffy slipped a comforting hand onto her arm and squeeze gently.

Willow appreciated the gesture. She was flat-out terrified she'd go all black-eyed and veiny becuse of all the magic flying around this place. It reassured her that the other believed she would be all right, and it helped that this Dumbledore had an aura of wisdom and calm about his. Willow had guessed this in her head even before she half-closed her eyes and turned on her second sight. She felt her heart tighten at the memory of Tara doing the same. She was always so much better at it than Willow.

She realized that Dumbledore was speaking, and mentally kicked herself for not paying attention. She tuned in attentively.

"- good flight. Now that the greetings are out of the way, I have an idea which may some of you may not agree with. Voldemort, whom Rupert has no doubt informed you of, will no doubt have some method of spying upon the school, and so if I announced you for who you are, you will be in great danger. I have considered that we should perhaps mix you with the pupils as American exchange students."

Silence prevaded in the room. Then Willow pointed out the flaw. "But we're too old to be students."

"Ah, yes. I have asked my Potions master to concoct an potion using the Elixir of Life-" Giles and Willow perked up in astonished interest- "and it shall temporarily turn you back until you can mingle with the sixth years. You are young enough you should be able blend in well enough, though I understand your experiences may have aged you before your time. Rupert, I have wondered if he might be more comfortable posing as your professor. The staff do, of course, know about you, and are all highly trusted."

"Why sixth year? Are we not grown-up enough to be in seventh?" Xander asked, pouting. 

Dumbledore replied with a twinkle in his eye. "The students I trust the most are in sixth. I presume you read my message? Harry Potter and his friends are in that year."

They nodded understandingly. On the plane, Giles had sat at the window for privacy and set an ochre quill on a long scroll of parchment. It had quivered a second, and then started writing across the paper in an elegant cursive, updating them on Harry Potter and the recent encounters with Voldemort. The row of three- Buffy, Dawn and Giles- had read it, and then passed it back to Willow and Xander. 

"OK. That's all good for you, but what about me?"

Dumbledore smiled kindly at her. "You will be in the year beneath your sister and her companions. I hope Ginny Weasley will welcome you. I will give you a small quantity of the potion in a moment, but just enough for today. I think it would be best to test it before we introduce you into the school."

Suddenly Willow gasped. "Oh no! What about the actual learning? We don't know any wand magic! We're wand magically deficient!" She almost cried. She'd been on tenterhooks all day and now this idea of not knowing anything when she'd always done so well in school hit her hard.

The Headmaster looked amused. "I though that would be the first question you asked. Instead, you go for a more minor one about your age that you knew could easily be solved with magic. However, I do have a solution. There is an extremely complex ritual that you can endure that will enlighten you with all the knowledge you need. It's name is, unfortunately, in an ancient form of Ko'tayeen and is virtually unpronouncable. It is commonly referred to as the Know-It-All Ritual. It shall take an awful lot out of you, and you will need several days at least to recover, but it will do the job." He grinned again.

"So, if it's so great and stufff, why don't you use it on the students?" Dawn questioned suspiciously.

"Like I said, it is very draining, and requires an almost impossible-to-get ingredient. Rupert has assured me though that you may have access to one. If she will not relinquish it, you will simply have to study very hard."

The group looked to Giles in confusion. 

***

Xander's eyes widened as he heard the ingredient. The amulet of a vengeance demon! There was no hope that Anya would give it to them, especially after he jilted her at the altar. He objected hopefully, "But she's blocking all our calls! How're we going to contact her?"

Willow cleared her throat. "Uh, I have a talisman-thingy that, uh, D'Hoffryn gave me when I did that spell. The one that went wrong. We could ask him to speak to her for us. We could say we wanted vengeance for the families of those Voldemort's killed and need her to do it properly."

Dumbledore gave her a delighted smile. "With your permission, I'll summon it." He performed a complicated twist of his wand and the talisman appeared in his hand. 

"Why not just accio it?" Giles queried. 

"I have a hunch that somebody would notice an amulet soaring across the Atlantic."

Giles cleaned his glasses in slight embarrassment. "It really had been a while since I've not been surrounded by Muggles."

Dumbledore gazed at them benevolently. "I have arranged a vault for you at Gringott's Wizarding Bank. I'll give you a Portkey to Diagon Alley, and I trust Rupert shall show you where to get equipped with everything you need. The ritual is tommorow. As soon as you all feel up to it, you shall be presented to the school." 

He gestured to silence the Portkey questions flooding him from every angle, and gave them each a thimbleful of the youth potion. He picked up a pen wrapped in a hankerchief from his desk. "Everybody touch it." They did so. "Hold on tight now!"

Whoosh.

***

The cacaphony of exclamations erupting from the Scoobies when they arrived in Diagon Alley deafening. They chucked at their newly-young bodies, they scrunched their faces up at the feeling of using a Portkey, they wondered at the street of magic shops. Giles was flapping his hands in frustration, trying to quiet them when one particularly venement squeal from Dawn shut them up. "Oh my GOD! They actually fly on BROOMS?"

She ran up to the window, pushing her hands against the glass as she stared in glee. She'd agreed with Willow about the general badness of the witch stereotype, but she'd always secretly thought it would be cool to fly.

Giles frantically wiped the hem of his shirt against his spectacles. He wondered if he'd have to buy new ones by the time this was over. Didn't the thickness of the lense affect the prescription? He gathered them together and called over the din, "Follow me! I'll take you to get everything you need. Anything you find interesting, point it out, and I'll tell you anything I know."

"Geez, Giles, I thought you were just supposed to *pretend* teacher chaperone." Buffy said sarcastically. The gang snickered as the followed him about the wonderful, secret lane which was a whole world in itself.

***

Several hours later, it was an tired and overwhelmed group of teens and one adult that returned down the road. "...and so all we have to get now is your wands. It's just around this corner, tucked into a little cranny."

"What's a cranny?" whispered Willow. Buffy and Xander smiled exhaustedly, but Dawn didn't show any reaction. Her eyes were glued to the window of a shop they were passing. Across the top, it proclaimed itself to be 'Quality Quidditch Supplies' in scrolling letters. Giles sighed good-naturedly, and led them into the shop. 

"I suppose you ought to have a broom if you want to blend in. Everyone else will." He admitted.

They gazed around wide-eyed as a wan youth approached with a big, cheesey smile that told you right off his salary was mainly on a commision basis. "Can I help you, sir, ladies? Do you know what you're looking for?"

"Yes, they are all, uh, looking to purchase brooms. You'd best ask them what they would like." Giles replied.

The smooth shop assistant explained the various brooms, which ones were safe, which ones were fast, which ones were reliable, which ones were hard-wearing. Willow wrinkle her nose up at the idea of a fast onel; she chose a safe, steady-paced Cleansweep. Xander picked up a twiggy, strong one called Troy, which had a row of enchanted darts that flew out the sides whenever someone which bad intent picked it up. Dawn bounced with joy as she selected a gleaming, showy one entitled 'The Sunray'. Buffy, however, wandered around. None of them seemed to appeal to her, however much the assistant stressed the magnificence of this one, the popularity of that one, the exclusiveness of the one over here. She came to rest in front of a broom, apparently ornamental, sitting on a slightly faded red velvet cushion on a shelf. The main part of it was made from a naturally silver-gold wood, and the tail twigs were bound on with a strong golden thread. The tail twigs were what really stood out however. They still had the leaves attacted, small, thin ones which had a surface shiny enough to flash in the bright light from the window. It had a small card propped against it, reading,

_*This broom, simply called Heaven, was created by the four founders of Hogwarts and was part of a plan to launch their own line of brooms, the sale of which would go towards funds for the ever-expanding school. It is the fastest broom ever recorded, but after giving it to a student for testing, it was discovered it only flew for the four wizards who invented it. To this day, it is said when the right own appears, it will fly for them, and only them. Try it if you wish!*_

Buffy reverently reached out, lifting it from its resting place. She let her fingers glide along the staff, had the urge to brush the leafy end across her cheek to see if it was as soft as it looked. Giles at her side told her, "Say up."

She did so, and it instantly sprang into the air for her. The shop screeched to a halt. A greying man wearing an apron which bulged with a beer belly hurried over, wiping his hands on his robes. He gaped in astonishment at the sight for a moment before breaking into a tirade of information and compliments. 

"Miss! This is quite amazing! You must take it, it is free for the one it choses to have it! It's a miracle! Never happened before! We thought it was just a legend. Apparently not, ho!"

Buffy smiled politely, but with confusion. "So, I can have it for free? Does that mean the same thing here it does in America? 'Cos it looked to me like it was really special, on a cushion and everything."

The man beamed in confirmation, and rang up the others' brooms before packaging them all carefully and handing them to them with more gushing words. Buffy dashed from the shop as soon as she could. The owner and the customers cooing over her made her very uncomfortable. 

The minute they were all in the fresh air, Xander grumbled cheerfully. "So, Buff, how come you get the special treatment again?"

Dawn whapped him on the arm. "She's a Champion, in case you forgot. She deserves special treatment for all the suffering she goes through, fightin' demons and ghouls and stuff every night."

Buffy rolled her eyes. She felt a little distanced from the others. The broom wouldn be the end of the 'special treatment', she hoped. But she was realistic enough not to guess that that would be the case. She was imbued with a mythological power. They were in a land of wizards. Wacked-out stuff was bound to happen. And she was right.

***

It happened in the wand shop, the next and last place to visit. All were first tested to see if they even had the power to wield a proper wand. The owner of the shop, a creepy guy called Ollivander, told them in an eerie, disapproving voice that if they showed no signs of wizarding magic, he had taken the liberty of making some other wands enchanted with 'gobs of power' as Dawn put it, so that they could attend Hogwarts and perform spells with the rest. Xander ended up with one of these, as did Dawn. Buffy, knowing her sister's disappointment, consoled her by saying, "Maybe Will could teach you Wicca!" She looked to the witch, who nodded happily. She'd recieved a fifteen inch yew wand with the tailhair of a unicorn as the core, as well as her other magic. She was chewing hopefully over in her head the idea that maybe she could use the wand to temper her magic, stop her going evil.

Buffy was last, as usual. She prove magic-positive, and spent over an hour waving about dozens of wands, practically destroying the dusty shop in the process. Now it was Dawn's turn to comfort her sister. "Maybe it's the Slayer gig, maybe it stops you doing-"

Dawn stopped, her hand over her mouth, her eyes horrified at what she'd disclosed in front of the uber-spooky salesman. He didn't seem too shocked however, just fluttered about in an epiphany about Buffy's wand deficiency. He came back bearing what looked like a deceptively normal wand, apart from it tapered to a sharpened point. He held it out to her in two hands. "Eleven inches. Ash wood, soaking in holy water for a year and a day, with a tip harded enough that it can be used as a dagger.. Core of unicorn hair, dragon's heartstring, *and* phoenix feather. You are very powerful. Use that power wisely."

Buffy took the wand, enjoying the comforting stake-like feel of it. She flicked it in the air, and grinned when black and gold stars burst out the end. 

***

Two minutes later, they were making their way through the crowds to the Leaky Cauldron, where Dumbledore had told them the bartender would have a Portkey ready for them. That night, they went to bed in the guest wing early, in preparation for the next day's arduous ritual.


	3. Knowledge is Power

For disclaimer, etc. see Chap 1.

Author's Rant: At the end of the Philosopher's Stone, did anyone else wonder why there were ways to get through everything? In the room with the fires and the potions, why give them potions and a scroll of help? Aren't they expecting that anyone who doesn't already know how to get through them to be evil? Don't they want to catch the evil person? Think about it.

Also, think about this: The Mirror or Erised only gave the Stone to anyone who didn't want the stone for themselves. If Harry had never gone, it would never have come out of the Mirror in the first place because Voldemort wanted it for himself. JK Rowling, think through your plots more carefully! 

Author's Beta's Rant (idolsgirl's): In CoS, when Harry & Ron found the entrance to the Chamber, couldn't they have just gone to the staff? I mean, McGonagall was there, the logical thing to do would have been to go tell someone with more magical ability (Lockhart surely can't be considered as possessing any at all) rather than do some heroic/mad/stupid thing like going in there alone...

Author's Notes: Apologies for the rant. It just bugged me :P Also, I've figured out the problem about the italics. No more asterixes (or asteri)! Also, a cookie for the person who spots the sentence or two I borrow from one of the Harry Potter books! *grins*

Also, another apology. When I wrote the previous chapter, I put 'Detox' somewhere. I meant Botox! Very sorry.

When reviewing, please comment on whether you think that the characters are in character. It's my main aim for the moment.

***

That evening, the Headmaster met them again in his office to check on the effects of the age potion. The Scoobies were sprawled, leaned, or slumped on various chairs in the room. Dumbledore removed a gold pocket watch from his ropes and inspected it. It was a very odd watch. It had twelve hands but no numbers; instead, little planets were moving around the edge. He seemed to understand it though, and perused it cheerfully while he informed them, "The draught I had Severus make up is very exact. You should shift back into your older bodies in, oh, 12 seconds... 11... 10...9...8...7...6...5...4...3...2...1!"

He looked them up and down expectantly, and frowned slightly when remained just the same. They exchange bewildered and slightly worried looks. The white-haired wizard went to the exquisite fireplace, tossing a small handful of some sort of powder in and calling, "Severus! It seems something has gone awry with the potion I wrote you a note asking for... The one to make our American guests grow young temporarily."

The gang jumped as a sallow head topped with greasy black hair appeared in the flames. It said, "Temporary? I am most certain the note said permanent. I have it here." 

A hand flitted through the fire, letting a slip of parchment flutter to the ground. Dumbledore picked it up, and, unfolding it, sighed deeply. He turned to the young demon-fighters with grave eyes. "I am very regretful to tell you that the potion is irreversible. Some owl droppings on the memo I sent our Potions master, obliterating one of the words, which sadly made it tell him to brew a permanent concoction. I'm most sorry; this is not the first demonstration of Hogwarts magic I would like you to have seen. If there's anything I can do..."

The face in the fire twisted at the very idea that anything had been his fault in any way. BUffy took an instant dislike to it, writing on a mental sticky in her head: 'Watch out for Potions teachers: stern? Resentful?'

Remembering her manners, she cheerfully announced her own feelings on the mistake. "Actually, I'm not bothered at all. It gives me a few more years before wrinkles squiggle their way onto my face."

Willow and Xander chorused their agreement, and the benevolent Englishman looked greatly relieved. Dawn remarked, with a sly smile, "Yeah, Buff, but it's not like grey will be in your hair soon; at least, not as long as you keep dying your hair blonde."

The Slayer tugged Dawn's hair. "Hey!" She looked at Dumbledore anxiously. "It's natural, it really is. She just gets a kick out of telling people it isn't."

The Key snickered, but conceded the truth in her sister's words. Xander commented wistfully, "I remember Ahn used to change her hair colour at least once a week." He looked sharply at Dumbledore. "Speaking of which, don't ya think we should be sure-making that she'll lend us her little doo-dad? We didn't exactly break up on the best of terms."

Dumbledore nodded. "Yes, I suppose we ought to."

He fished about in his pockets for his wand, and taking it out, he traced a pattern on the floor with it. "Blessed be the name of D'Hoffryn. Let this space be now a gateway to the world of Arash Ma'har, where demons are spawned..."

Eventually his eyes misted, and he apparently heard something no one else could, because he respectfully incanted, "Great D'Hoffyrn, Lord of demons who act in the name of vengeances, hear my plea, and grant to me the presence of the demon Anyanka."

He listened to a reply, and inclined his head, a pleased smile on his face. "I am honoured by your attention. Thank you. Blessed be the name of D'Hoffryn."

He stepped away from the invisible design on the floor as it showed itself in watery lines of light. Everybody started as Anya popped into the room, a bright smile on her face. "How can I be of service? Anybody need an ex-boyfriend's feet curled around a pencil? A fork..." 

She trailed off, her let-me-take-your-money-or-grant-your-wish smile replaced by a grumpy frown. "Oh. It's you lot. What do you want?"

Dumbledore said clearly, "I wish that you would lend us your amulet tomorrow at 9 am to use in a Know-It-All ritual for an hour."

Angry understanding flashed in Anya's eyes. "WHAT? DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA WHAT IT DOES? NO WAY!" she exploded.

"You have to. It's one of the rules by which you have the amulet in the first place." Dumbledore reminded her simply.

Fury and resignation rampaged across her face. "Fine. Wish granted. Tomorrow at 9, for no longer than an hour." 

She evaporated. Xander quipped, "Honey! I'm glad to see you've forgiven me for all that bad business a while back. Oh, and thanks for noticing the magical Detox."

Willow noticed a shadow pass across his face though, and conceded that he wasn't completely over Anya. Her helping when Willow was hyped up on magic gave him hope, which has not only been dashed, but run the whole marathon. Still, Xander was bouncy. He'd spring back, full of the bounce. It was Xander, after all.

***

That night, all of the Americans slept deep and long, and so were all heavy-eyed and drowsy when they drifted into the ritual room in the flowing dark blue robes they'd been told to wear. None had eaten, due to the necessity of fasting for the spell, and so were all cantankerous with hunger. Anya appeared promptly at five to nine and relinquished her pendant without too much resistance. Willow and Giles helped Dumbledore prepare it, while Buffy and Dawn chatted. Xander and Anya were left standing awkwardly. Xander filled in the silence, "So, uh.. you look good."

"Thank you. You look young. And also good. How are you doing?"

"Oh, great. Fabulous. Yep. Everything's rosy in Xan-land. I just have a few eensy-weensy worries about the spell. They don't tend to go well for me. Remember the demon magnet one? And the singing-demon one?"

He stopped, abashed that he'd brought up the point in time that their relationship really began to go bad. Anya's face had softened though. "Xander. I miss you. But this is who I am. A demon. A vengeance demon. A stint as a human can't change that."

She smiled at him. "But I don't kill them anymore. I used to twist even the littlest wishes- if someone wanted their boyfriend turned into a worm, I'd turn them into a giant man-eating worm. But now I just turn them into worms.

Xander couldn't help smiling, even through his disapproval about wormboys. "I've missed you, Ahn."

Her smile vanished. "My name is Anyanka."

With that, she turned away, and leaned against the wall as the ritual started.

"Saraswati, embodiment of knowledge, we call to you for your benediction..."

Almost three hours later, it was over. Xander, Willow, Buffy and Dawn were slumped on the ground like vegetables. Giles, dusting his hands off worriedly, asked, "They are supposed to be like this, aren't they?"

Dumbledore nodded in affirmation. "Perfectly normal." He summoned stretchers and levitated the unconscious Scoobies on to it, sending them to deposit their passengers in their rooms. 

*** 

Three days later, Buffy was the only one strong enough to be up and about. It took two more full days for the others to return to full strength, and it was that evening, a Monday, that they were going to be introduced to the students. 

Buffy was reclining on a heap of pillows on the floor in Willow's bedroom, where they had gathered. She was saying, "...it's really wiggy. I can remember learning normal stuff at Sunnydale High, and then I kind of blink, and I remember learning about all this other stuff- magic and wands, and a wizarding school in Oklahoma. My brain's all wacked out."

Xander bobbed his head, grinning, and put in, "I'd say the same, Buff, but for me, the learning normal stuff at Sunnydale just never happened. I feel so enlightened now. Lyra, can't you see the Dust around me?"

"You've read Philip Pullman?" Buffy asked, surprised. 

Xander nodded. "When you were... gone, me and Dawnie read it together, to keep us occupied. Didn't we?"

He reached out to affectionately ruffle Dawn's hair. She batted him away. "Stop it! You're messing up my hair! We're going to meet everyone tonight, and I want to look good." 

She grinned mischievously. "Besides, there might be some cute boys."

Xander, unperturbed by the scolding, gasped in mock horror. "What? Dawn, speak to us lowly old folks, about boys? I feel faint!"

Buffy beamed, tucking a strand of Dawn's hair behind her ear. "Your hair's fine. You're so lucky, it just falls back into place. And, yeah, how come you actually said that to us?"

"Well, I don't know, since you've been in those bodies, you act a little younger as well. I just get the feeling you won't go all overprotective any more, and will actually help me with my make-up and clothes and stuff.

Buffy laughed, and replied, "I hope you know that you can always tell me anything. Especially boys. I want the low-down. I know I was an overprotective, trying-be-responsible, pseudo-mom, but I've calmed down since then. Calm as a cucumber. That's me!"

Dawn grumbled, "Yeah, well you would be calm and cool and everything. You're the Slayer and a witch. I'm not real, just a ball of green Gatorade, and nearly get sliced open like a loaf of bread, and I don't even have enough magic in me for a wand! How unfair is that?"

"Look on the bright side. You don't have the weight of the world on your shoulder, and no one is gunna come after you to kill you- well, anymore- especially now that you have double-power and would be the perfect supernatural caffeine boost. But, you still get to do magic, because of the imbued wand. You're a lucky little Dawnling." Buffy said grimly.

"Well, I was your big gun for Glory, and I failed," Willow vehemently shook off Buffy's immediate denials, "and now I'm the big gun for Voldemort, and it's all on me, not you this time." She paused, and then brightened. "Hey, how 'bout these new bodies then? It's not my body from high school..."

"Ah-ha! Professor Xander to the rescue." He adopted a stuffy, incredibly bad British accent. "So, old beans, the reason behind this absence of change is all in the spell. It doesn't change scars, or nail polish, or haircut because you could have had them in high school, you just didn't. It's just the basic body."

The gang stared at him. "I asked Gandalf," he admitted. 

"Not a bad attempt, Xan, but you didn't manage the unpronounceable un

-understandable words. You nixed the slang though," Buffy encouraged. She looked at the clock. "Damn it! We have to get ready for our grand entrance!"

All three girls dashed simultaneously for the bathroom.

***

That evening, decked out in their new black Hogwarts robes, they waited nervously outside the doors to the Great Hall. Inside, Dumbledore was saying a few words before dinner, amid a buzz of interested whispering. The floating candles burned brightly; the Gryffindor colours shone in the elaborately woven tapestries on the wall; the crescent moon was lovingly pouring its silvery rays down from the enchanted ceiling. The students were all itching with curiousity; it was almost unheard of for Dumbledore to speak to them at dinner. Even at feasts he usually only said the necessities. But this time, he was making a grand announcement.

"In this perilous time, we need to band together, we each other, and those from farther afield. Tonight, we have special guests- exchange students from America, who have come to observe our magic, and inform us of theirs. It is a great moment to unite two countries and two continents. I expect you all to make them feel welcome."

He flicked his wand, and somewhat ominously, the enormous doors swung open slowly, admitting the five people behind it. They proceeded in, feeling like rare animals being paraded around at the zoo. They ascended the steps to the dais and lined up next to the Headmaster. He introduced them all by their real names, and told the students that they would all be joining sixth year except Dawn, who was fifth year. Finally, the teacher who they had learned was called Professor McGonagall brought out a small wooden stool and a tattered wizard's hat. They watched curiously as a tear near the brim seemed to shudder, and then sang, 

In times of danger and great fear,

We need to stand united all,

We all have loved ones we hold dear,

So our to friends across the seas we call.

They join us here to help us now,

And stay with us in faith and trust,

We need to not quarrel and row,

\But now sort them into Houses we must.

Hufflepuff, for the loyal and kind,

Slytherin, who have ambition and stealth,

Ravenclaw, for the sharpest of mind,

Gryffindor, who have of courage a wealth.

One of these houses you will be in,

You family, in good times and bad,

To help you through the thick and the thin,

There is plenty of fun and friendship to be had!

The hall sat in silence. They'd never heard it welcome visitors like that before! These must be really special ones...

"Xander Harris!" called Professor McGonagall.

Xander darted a nervous look at his friends and made his way towards the hat. He pulled it over his head, and the brim drooped over his eyes.

Well... Let's see, shall we? Not the most intellectual of people, though you definitely are clever... it was a great idea to destroy the Judge with a rocket launcher. Not really ambitious, but you like to be useful... You're loyal through and through, but the house you'd fit in best with would be...

"GRYFFINDOR!" roared the hat. Xander went to join the red and gold table who were cheering the loudest, and beckoning him over welcomingly. He grinned as he slid onto the end of the bench, next to a boy with messy black hair. He heard the boy with flaming red hair across the table complaining, "How come their names aren't called surname first? Made me look like a right idiot, being called Weasley, Ron..." He drew his attention back to the up-raised section where Willow was perching on the stool now.

Hmmm, well you're an interesting one, aren't you? Recently had a brush of power... could excellently in Slytherin if you hadn't renounced it... Loyal enough for a Hufflepuff, and brave enough for a Gryffindor, but you've always truly loved learning, so you're best suited to..."

"RAVENCLAW!" bellowed the hat. She smiled bashfully as the squeezed onto a table decked out in blue, and turned to face Buffy, now donning the hat with effortless grace and style. She tensed her muscles apprehensively as the hat whispered to her,

  
"This has got to be the most difficult so far. So much loyalty, a fair amount of brains if you gave them the chance, one of the bravest hearts I've seen in my existence... but your power, your calling, is rooted in darkness. I think I'd better make you a...."

"SLYTHERIN!"

Buffy rose to her feet, feeling embarrassing and confused as to why the other three houses stayed mostly silent for her. Willow and Xander had received a big round of applause from the entire hall each. She got a few polite claps. She held her head up, and strode with fake confidence to a gap in on the bench at the Slytherin table. It was pathetic... she was a twenty-two year old quaking at the opinions of some sixteen year olds! She thought she'd out-grown this, but it must come with the teenaged body. Damn it!

Dawn slowly lifted the hat to her head, and prayed silently, "Let me be with Buffy, or at least one of the others. I don't want to do this on my own..."

But my dear, although you have the qualities needed for all the other houses, you would by far do your best in Hufflepuff. You're full of love and joy. You need to be with others like you. Besides, it would be beneficial to your mission to have someone in each of the houses. Yes, you'll do just fine in...

"HUFFLEPUFF!"

Dawn blinked, and was suddenly furious. She'd been dragged across the world to stuffy old Britain, had a bunch of knowledge shoved into her, seen her OLDER sister and guardian shrink to only a year above her, and now she wasn't even going to get to stick with her friends! She stalked over to the table, and plopped down onto the bench sulkily. She smiled stiffly at the girl with bright yellow cornrows who was shaking her hand enthusiatically. She was pissed off, but it wasn't their fault, after all...

With the Scoobies at their separate tables, the food appeared, and the feast, and much more, began.


	4. Fitting In and Friending In

For disclaimer, etc. see Chap 1

Author's Notes: I'm very sorry about how long it's taking me to continue all of my stories, but I'm constantly having more ideas and it takes so much longer to write them down than it does to think them up. Please be kind! And although it seems at the moment like Buffy isn't going to be paired with anybody, wait for the Yule Ball. I can't remember if the Yule Ball only happens when the Triwizard cup is on or not, and my sister's borrow my copy of the Goblet of Fire, so I'm just going to say it is on every year.

I know this is a bit short, but I'm strapped for time at the moment, so I figured a little bit to keep people interested would be better than nothing.

Additional Note: Hmmm. That was an interesting experience. I just got flamed for the first time! It was from Mistress of Hogwarts, whom I had just reviewed saying that I couldn't understand her story because the layout was wacked. Coincidence? Go to my reviews and read it. It was actually quite funny; I had this little mental image of her spluttering, all red in the face.

* * *

Buffy looked around her, noting with bright eyes the distanced and controlled faces around her. There was definitely something off with this table. All the others were laughing and talking, but this one was conversing quietly, always just to one other person, never a group. Well, maybe they were just shy or something, Buffy thought with forced, failing optimism. She smiled nervously at the girl with long auburn hair to her right, who seemed the only one with a natural expression on her face, as unenthusiastic as it was. "Hi, I'm Buffy Summers," she chirped.

The girl turned to her slowly with an amused, slightly disdainful look, and grinned with a smile that seemed to curve up slowly, with a syrupy quantity like toffee. It wasn't really a nasty smile, but it wasn't welcoming and bright either. "Blaise Zabini."

"So, who is everyone?"

A white-haired boy who was sitting with a relaxed alertness in his shoulders leaned across the table and leaned with royal confidence across the table. He arched an aristocratic eyebrow. "Draco Malfoy. Were there many wizards in California? Were your parents magical?"

Blaise snorted with laughter. "That was Draco's barely concealed attempt to discover whether you're pureblood or not."

Buffy didn't like the vibe she was getting from him, and looked him up and down in a way she knew he would find insulting. "Actually, I come from an ancient line of mystical women." She replied smoothly. She took a moment to admire the golden silverware and plates before reaching for a jug of some sort of fruit juice. She poured herself some, and almost spat it out in surprise when it had a distinctive taste of pumpkin. She decided it was nice though, and took another mouthful, this time swirling it round to get the full taste.

Draco would have spluttered if he hadn't had his rigid, hereditary Malfoy self-control. His only response was a slight pink flush in his cheeks. That a newcomer, and an American at that, would talk back to _him_, the king of Slytherins! He curled his lip, and spat, "What, did you have lesbian mothers or something?"

She gazed at him calmly, unpreoccupied as she spooned spaghetti on to her plate. "No, not really. I think my father's brother is gay though." She paused, and looked him up and down again with obviously fake sympathetic understanding. "They say there is one in every family, after all. I'm guessing that none of _your_ relatives are gay. It is just _one_ in every family, supposedly."

Blaise burst into laughter, desperately trying to swallow her mouthful of rice before she choked with mirth.

* * *

Over at the Gryffindor table, Xander had easily made friendly with the cheerful people surrounding him. So far he'd learned that Hermione, Ron and Henry- no, _Harry_, were best friends, and that the red-haired girl was Ginny, Ron's little sister, and the round-faced boy who reminded Xander of Jonathan Levinson was called Neville.

"So, you're telling me that there is actually a ceiling up there, not just an open space, and it's enchanted?" He shook his head. "Weird."

Ron swallowed his mouthful with a huge gulp, and took a swig of juice to wash it down. "Yeah, well, you get used to it, I guess. But what're the others like? I bet the blonde's not very nice, yeah? Slytherins never are."

He winked knowingly, a derisive look on his face. It was his mistake. Xander's eyes flashed angrily, his mouth formed a scowl, and his entire demeanour changed. He said coldly. "You will never find a more loving soul than Buffy."

Ron was taken aback, and with apparent bewilderment he shrugged, holding his hands up. "O-_kay._"

Hermione diplomatically steered the conversation towards something she knew they'd be able to talk about easily: Quidditch. "So, do you play Quidditch?"

Xander smiled, remembering learning the sport and yet going to PE class at the same time. "Yep. I play Beater. But Buff's the real flyer in our group. She has this impossible sense of balance and timing. Guess it comes from fighting."

He froze, and then covered his blip by adding, "Buffy does martial arts."

Harry asked about the team he supported, and then the boys were off in a never-ending stream of passionate remarks. Hermione smiled, and shook her head as she turned to Ginny, who rolled her eyes knowingly. It seemed the new boy would fit in well.

* * *

Dawn was getting along quite well with the Hufflepuffs now that her sulk had left the room along with the Sorting Hat. The blonde girl with cornrows seemed nice; her name was Emily Candest and she was very friendly and interesting. There was a girl next to her called Hannah Abbott who seemed a little wary of her, but the rest of the table was greeting her enthusiastically. They fell into a discussion about the classes and the teachers, and Dawn laughed as they told her various stories, pointing out the main players along the way. She even ventured a few of her own, ruthlessly edited. That was when Emily bent her head close, her eyes glinting with satisfaction behind her curtain of hair, and said to her in a hushed, giggly voice, "You see that guy over there? With the black hair and the glasses? That's Harry Potter."

Dawn immediately sat to attention and the gaggle of girls looked pleased they had garnered her interest. She began pumping them for information as subtly as she could. Most of it seemed to be rumours, but in every vein of foolery there is a grain of wisdom, and it was the same with gossip and the truth. Finally, she was helping the cause, and better yet, she was making firm friends with her new housemates in the process.

* * *

Willow was having a slightly harder time. The entire table seemed not unwelcoming, but slightly more withheld. However, she began talking with an Asian girl the others called Cho, although whether that was a nickname or her normal, she was unsure. When she began talking about the subject courses and the books she'd read though, they loosened up and they started chatting more easily. Then somebody- Ama?- made a teasing comment to Cho, who flushed, about a boy called Harry. Seeing her confused look, the boy across from her with sandy hair pointed at the Gryffindor table and explained, "Cho used to have this thing for that bloke over there. We don't know if it's finished or not, but we're leaning towards finished. It's all very complicated."

The redhead turned and followed his finger with her eyes, and as her gaze fell upon him he seemed to notice and turned round. He looked a little annoyed at being gawked at like a sideshow, but he smiled at her warmly enough, and Willow felt a little stirring of interest in her veins. Definitely hottie potential, although he needed time to fill out properly. She blushed and ducked her head before hurriedly returning the conversation to the Charms curriculum.

* * *

At the professors' table, Giles had discovered the shrewd-looking witch to his left had been in the year above him. His eyes lit up in recognition as she reminded him. "Minnie! Oh- oh dear, I'm quite sorry. I remember now that you hated that name. Minerva. So you are teaching here these days? Which subject? I recount Roy in the year above me used to tell me about how you astonished the class in Transfiguration?"

She smiled with wry amusement. "Yes, and I remember you, Ripper. What happened to you? After you expulsion, you seemed to disappear off the face of the earth."

He polished his glasses in slight embarrassment. "Well, I gained a scholarship to Oxford and Ethan and I continued in our...er...mischief until an accident happened. Then I became a Watcher and settled down, I suppose, working at the British Museum, until Buffy's previous Watcher, Merrick, was killed and I moved to Sunnydale and took over."

She gifted him with a rare smile. "I always knew you'd turn out all right in the end."

As they began to discuss the fates of old schoolmates, Giles felt the warmth of a kinship and familiarity he hadn't felt in a long time.

* * *

That night, each of the Scoobies had been given a separate room to themselves in their respective houses, and they slept deep and well. They were safe for the time being; they were amongst friends; they were young; they were learning all the time. Why shouldn't they rest?


	5. Lessons, Lessons, Everywhere, and Not a ...

For disclaimer, rating etc. see Chapter 1.

Author's Note: Hey there to all you faboo people who are hanging on to my every word and author's note! I'm really sorry that this has taken me so long, and is so short, but there is so much going on, that when I finally manage to get five minutes on the internet, all I have the energy for is reading other people's fics. Forgive me! (Insert from a later date- Also, at the moment I really don't have the inspiration. I'm completely depressed by the lack of fab-worthy fics. Any suggestions?)

Wow. How pathetic am I? I just spend a bunch of time translating 'Voldemort' in my head, and it means 'theft of death' or 'flight of death' in French. Plus, although I always understood that Diagon Alley was a play on words, I never got until recently Knockturn Alley (nocturnally).

Geez. Sometimes I'm so slow.

The next day, the Scoobies woke bright and early with the haughty, Scottish autumn sunlight flooding their rooms. They had each been given one to themselves in their respective Houses, the Headmaster reasoning that although they could pass for ordinary students most of the time, they should be able to relax in their spare time

Buffy had dressed as quickly as possible, partly so that she didn't have to look at the unfashionable clothes she would be wearing for the next year or so, but mainly so that she could get down to breakfast early, and have a look around with the Scoobs. Knotting her tie loosely as she made her way out the door, Blaise joined her as she crossed the Common Room to reach the portrait hole, and smiled a greeting far friendlier than the one Buffy had been granted yesterday.

"Morning."

"Hey. So, you nervous?" Blaise asked, grinning.

Buffy grinned back, and acted offended. "Who, me? Shyeah, right! Watch out world. Or, you know, Hogwarts, I guess."

The girls laughed, and headed down to the Entrance Hall, where they found the Xander, Willow and Dawn talking excitedly all at once. They looked up as Buffy and Blaise approached, and the latter nodded to the former before proceeding through to the Great Hall on her own.

At last, Buffy felt a bit more relaxed. It was much more easy and comfortable with the Scoobs, and listening to Willow bubble effusively about everything calmed her nerves.

It was to be short-lived though. In the Main Hall, they had to separate, and although now she knew Blaise and could sit with her, she saw Draco Malfoy toying with a croissant across from her. Sighing, she made her way over and plopped down unashamedly, reaching for the basket of muffins as she listening to Blaise and Draco argue. He was vehemently arguing against 'half-breeds' such as Hagrid being allowed to teach, and once they had filled her in, Buffy was asked her own opinion.

"They're people, just like we are. They just have blood in them which isn't the same species. A cat is still a cat, whether its parents' fur was tortoiseshell or black."

Draco again started to dispute it, and Blaise responded. Buffy busied herself with eating her breakfast, but when she was done, she snapped, sick of having to hear the blond boy once again put forth his arrogant, racist views. "You know, I'm really trying to see your point of view, but I can't get my head _that far up my ass_."

As she said this, the red-head and black haired boy Xander had been speaking of earlier passed with the pretty brunette that was always with them. They overheard the insult, and their eyes bulged comically at a Slytherin, and a new one at that, taunting the prince of that house. It was only when their brains had finally registered the words that they burst into boisterous laughter.

A pale pink flush rose in Draco's cheeks. "Yes, I suppose it can't get pass the stick that's in the way."

To his complete surprise and disconcertion, Buffy laughed, not a harsh, sarcastic one, but a friendly, almost open one. Shaking her head in amusement, she helped herself to a platter of sliced, assorted fruits as if the whole exchange never happened, and respect for the newcomer swelled rapidly.

The first lesson that she had was Transfigurations, which was taught in house classes with no pairs as it was one of the trickier subjects. Buffy took a seat next to Blaise, and was happy to find out that though Professor McGonagall was strict and moved over the topics quickly, she was an excellent teacher and made the subject interesting, if not fun. She was delighted to discover that she did well. They were concentrating on changing something not entirely, but slightly and precisely, which was much more difficult than shifting an object into something else. In this case, they had to take a plain, round shortbread biscuit and transfigure it so that a pattern decorated the top. The more complex the pattern, the better marks given. Buffy managed to bedeck her cookie, as she insisted on calling it, with a multitude of spirals and whorls that earned her full marks.

Linking arms with Blaise as they exited the classroom, she smiled at her new friend, who stiffened and was looking suitably British about the familiar contact. Making a jibe about it, Blaise replied and relaxed as they headed for their next class, Potions.

Buffy rolled her eyes. She'd been sitting through almost an hour of tense silence, other than the insults flickering between Malfoy and 'Harry Potter' whom she had learned was super-famous, blah, blah, blah from Xander, who was also in the class, being a Gryffindor. The Potions Master, Professor Snape, only encouraged them to snark at one another, and took points away from Gryffindor, giving them to Slytherin. He seemed to have it in for Xander and her especially, which vaguely confused the other students, seeing as she was a Slytherin. Luckily, she seemed to be good at this magic thing, and as much as he tried, he couldn't find anything _really_ wrong with her. He coldly informed her not to be so infantile about the chicken livers they were dicing when she made a sound of disgust, and spend a good deal of time suspiciously pacing in front of her desk, watching her every move. His nerve and disdain annoyed her, and she resolved to do something about it.

Eventually the bell rang, and everybody eagerly piled out the door. Buffy ducked her head out the door, telling Blaise that she wanted to speak to Professor Snape about the curriculum, and a nod to Xander telling him her intentions were a little less than academic. He shepherded Draco Blaise away from the door and then followed her in, not noticing the blond boy listening still hanging about, listening intently and curiously to whatever he could hear.

Xander leaned against the uneven stone wall and chuckled as he watched Buffy angrily storm up to the Potions master.

All of a sudden she halted and smiled sweetly at him. "Severus."

He frowned sourly at her. "My name to you is Professor Snape."

Buffy's eyes gleamed. "You see, that's where you're wrong. Your name to me _in public_ is Professor Snape. In private, I can call you anything I want, sweetie."

She confidently stepped forward. "Severus, it seems I need to remind you that I am twenty-two years old and you should treat me with the equality, respect and manners you show to all other adults. Or should I say the equality, respect and manners you _should_ show all other adults. I am not a child, however much I might look like it, and you should not forget that when dealing with me and my friends."

She made a dismissive gesture with her hand, and strode towards the door. She paused, and gestured for Xander to follow, turning to call out a cheery "Bye!" to the livid and confused professor behind her.

Xander sheepishly pointed his thumb at Buffy's retreating back. "What she said."


End file.
